Torn
by Meriah
Summary: The narrative of a Houndour's life at Team Rocket Headquarters, and the depression of his memories.


I snarl my menacing fangs at the Gyarados, warning that my size means nothing. My eyes darken to an infernal crimson, and I attack; cracking an array of his scales. Yes, I am trained that well. Once he plummets upon the rock-covered ground, my trainer captures him in a Pokéball. I retire to a patch of grass, where I relax under the warmth of the sun.  
  
"Houndour!" my trainer calls. "Get over here."  
  
Her demanding voice frightens me. I edge slowly to her, my head between my legs. She slaps my muzzle harshly, but I cannot attack her, because I am her slave.  
  
"Now, get in your Pokéball, before I force you to," she snaps. Dropping the red-and-white orb, it rolls toward me, and I open it with my paw. Now inside, I can feel shielded.  
  
I don't understand why she treats me this way. I do everything she commands me to do; I'm nice to her; I obey her; and I protect her. What more could she want? I am a loyal Pokémon, yet she treats me as if I am nothing more than pond scum.  
  
I hear her boots pace across a steel floor. We're back at Team Rocket Headquarters. She changes her direction down the north wing, where her dark, writhing bedroom is. She hurls the Pokéball I am located in against a wall, which is one of her unique ways of calling me out.  
  
Glaring down at me, she says, "You're such a pathetic creature. I am disgraced that you're the Pokémon given to me. I deserve better. Even a Weedle surpasses you." She then yanks me by the scruff; drags me down the corridor. She casts me into the lockup room, where I am then confined within a corner. I am petrified of this place. Ever since as far back as I can remember, I've heard the helpless screeching of various Pokémon, until they were in eternal silence. I've been forced to lick up the blood that left the room, and eat the remains of the carcasses.  
  
My trainer grips a keen, metal object from the hanging post, and sits on her knees before me. The silver blade shimmers against the cages, with a touch of dried blood never cleaned from it. She hacks away at my neck with the weapon, grinding it deep into my neck. But, I am not suffering from the hellish pain; but from the dishonesty she is doing. When she finally ends the tragic episode, I feel my eyes shut, and my body descend upon the cold floor.  
  
My final memories flash across my mind: I was born here, in the same room, in the same spot where I am now suffering. My parents were both Houndooms, who had given birth to me and my five sisters. However, I never met my father. My mother told me that he was used in a scientific experiment before my memory system developed.   
  
A few weeks later, a man in a red suit walked in, next to my trainer.  
  
"Boss, what should I do with the litter?"  
  
"Well, Domino, first off, what are their genders?"  
  
"Five females and one male."  
  
"We have enough birthing mothers already. You may as well kill the females."  
  
"Yes, I will."  
  
She thrashed them powerfully with her hands, causing them to die. I was too young to understand death, so I pawed them, thinking they were playing a game.  
  
... But they wouldn't awaken.  
  
... That's when I learned what death was.  
  
A whimper escaped from me. I was now alone in this world, without my family...  
  
As for my mother, she was tied back with a chain before the incident. But, her strong force broke it, and she vaulted upon the man, ready to kill him. My trainer, however, yanked my mother off, and beat her rapidly. She howled pitifully, and was dragged away.  
  
... That was the last I ever saw of my mother. I'm not sure if she is still alive or not.  
  
And, now, I am here, thinking upon this. I cannot find any happy memories, because I never had any.  
  
I am one of the innocent victims of this organization. I've brutally attacked other Pokémon before, but only because I was forced to. And, ever since that horrible day of my sisters dying, and the departure of my mother, my soul has been torn.  
  
The inside of me has died long ago. And, now, my outside shall.  



End file.
